264 



There was a prize in the old blind evi- 

 dently. But what was he doing there ? Till 

 ^r-<P3^f then I had supposed that the owl always 

 •^ kiia^%i^' takes his e-ame from the wine. Farther 



..^-B 



takes his game from the wing. Farther 

 along the beach was a sand bluff over- 

 looking the proceedings. I gained it, after 

 a careful stalk, crept to the edge and looked 

 over. Down in the blind a big snowy owl 

 was digging away like a Trojan, tearing out 

 sand and seaweed with his great claws, first 

 one foot then the other, like a hungry hen, 

 and sending it up in showers behind him 

 over the old mast. Every few moments he 

 would stop, bristle up all his feathers till he 

 looked comically big and fierce, take a look 

 out over the log and along the beach, then 

 fall to digging again furiously. 



I suppose that the object of this bristling 

 up before each observation was to strike ter- 

 ror into the heart of any enemy that might 

 be approaching to surprise him at his unusual 

 work. It is an owl trick. Wounded birds 

 always use it when approached. 



The object of the digging was soon appar- 

 ent. A beach rat had jumped down into the 



